He was a man who gave off a strangely chilly feeling. After leaving the elevator hall and stepping into the corridor, Ihyeon pressed his back to the wall and stopped.
“……”
The image of the man who had asked his name kept circling in his head, but that wasn’t what he needed to worry about right now. At the far end of the hallway, he could see a plaque that read Manager’s Office.
Standing alone in a deserted corridor that didn’t seem to belong to a working floor, the reality began to sink in. He had come here of his own will to meet Gu Seunghyeok — and that Seunghyeok was inside.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, so there was no reason to shrink back, yet his throat felt strangely dry. Ihyeon went into the restroom and splashed cold water over his face.
Drying the droplets running along his jaw with stiff tissue, Ihyeon met his own eyes in the mirror and bit down on his lip. Now that he’d come this far, there was no turning back.
Throwing the tissue away, Ihyeon left the restroom and started walking slowly. Passing down the dimly lit corridor, he reached the door marked Manager’s Office, his heart beating fast. He drew a breath and raised his hand to knock.
Knock knock knock.
There was no answer, so he knocked again, but still nothing. Thinking perhaps no one was inside, he placed his hand on the doorknob.
Contrary to his expectation that it would be locked, the handle turned smoothly and the door opened a crack.
“……”
He pushed slowly, and the door opened. The first thing visible inside was a bleak scene that showed almost no trace of anyone living there. A bookshelf along one wall stood empty, and aside from a low table and a sofa, there was barely any furniture. It looked like an abandoned office no one used.
“What are you doing? If you opened it, come in.”
Staring blankly at the sight, Ihyeon turned his head toward the voice as if drawn to it.
In the middle of the room, Gu Seunghyeok sat in the desk chair with the window behind him. The moment he saw that shadowed figure backlit by the light, the cluttered thoughts in Ihyeon’s head bleached white.
Seeing him standing there blankly, Seunghyeok spoke.
“Come sit.”
Ihyeon ran his tongue once over his lips and slowly walked to the sofa Seunghyeok indicated with his chin. He sat obediently, but Seunghyeok showed no reaction. Instead of coming over to sit across from him, he simply leaned back at his desk with his legs crossed, looking only at his phone.
Cheerful game sound effects rang alone through the silent space.
“……”
Still staring at the corner of the table, Ihyeon clenched his fist. He couldn’t think where to begin or what to say. Chewing his dry lips, he spoke quietly.
“…Why did you call me.”
“……”
“You said we shouldn’t see each other again.”
Once spoken, the words sounded more resentful than he’d intended. Seunghyeok seemed to notice too, letting out a breathy laugh.
“Well. Your voice sounded pretty urgent.”
“……”
“So why did you come?”
“…Severance pay.”
“Severance pay?”
“I heard you get it if you worked over a year.”
His lowered gaze was calm. After glancing up briefly at Ihyeon, Seunghyeok smirked while moving his fingers over the phone.
“Really? How much do you want?”
“…Around thirty million.”
“Thirty million.”
“……”
“That’s a lot of money to hand to someone who’s leaving. Don’t you think?”
His tone made it clear he knew Ihyeon didn’t even know whether he could claim severance or how much — he’d just said the amount he needed.
Seunghyeok sneered, but Ihyeon had nothing to reply. Amid the awkward silence broken only by the playful game sounds, Seunghyeok spoke again.
“Fine. You have a contract?”
“…A contract?”
“You have to prove you worked there that long. How am I supposed to hand over that money just because you say so, hm?”
Since the day he first worked three years ago, he had never written any contract. When he’d once asked whether things like insurance applied, the boss had laughed and asked who demanded that from club part-timers.
“You don’t?”
“…Even without a contract, there are deposit records in my bankbook.”
“How do I know that money came from our place and not from somewhere else you crawled around for?”
Seeing Ihyeon’s fist clench white, Seunghyeok’s eyes curved mockingly.
“There’s no severance for work done without a contract.”
“……”
“Someone might think you worked at some respectable company, Ihyeon.”
Click. Turning off the game, Seunghyeok set his phone on the desk and stood. His shoes tapped as he moved and perched on the edge of the desk with the light behind him.
His long shadow fell over the table and sofa where Ihyeon sat. Ihyeon stiffened at the closer scent of perfume.
“If you need money, don’t give me some half-baked excuse. Say it properly. Ask me to help you.”
“……”
“That you’re desperate enough to need money earned from beating people.”
Seunghyeok’s gaze was fixed on Ihyeon’s profile. Watching him stare only at the table corner with his lips pressed tight, Seunghyeok unconsciously ground his teeth.
“Can’t do it? I told you in the basement I’d give you a good chance—”
“Help me.”
“……”
Ihyeon slowly raised his head. Looking straight at Seunghyeok without wavering, he spoke again.
“Lend me some money. You’re the only person I have to ask.”
The unexpected interruption caught Seunghyeok off guard. He opened his mouth to speak but found no suitable words, clenching his fist instead.
Calling Ihyeon to headquarters after vaguely recognizing his voice during the phone call with the manager had been half impulse. He hadn’t actually expected him to come — when Kwon Ihyeon walked in, he’d even laughed in disbelief.
He’d wanted to see Ihyeon bow to him, since he was the type to respond calmly with two or three words whenever provoked — yet now that it was happening before his eyes, it didn’t feel good.
And the phrase you’re the only one I have… Seunghyeok let out a cold sneer and straightened.
There had to be plenty of men around him — had he been ensnaring people like that?
Looking down at Ihyeon with cold eyes, Seunghyeok ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. The clear image he remembered was gone; only a pale, stiff face like a worn mask remained.
Clenching his molars, Seunghyeok turned as if deciding something and walked back to the desk.
“……”
The sound of writing came from the desk. Soon two sheets of paper were placed before Ihyeon. On the white page was written a loan agreement stating that Party B borrowed thirty million won principal from Party A.
Watching Ihyeon read slowly, Seunghyeok perched on the sofa opposite.
“Interest is industry standard. Repayment in one year.”
“……”
“Too generous for lending to someone whose only asset is their body?”
Ihyeon kept his eyes on the paper without answering. Watching him, Seunghyeok lightly tapped the document.
“But there’s a condition.”
“……”
“Let’s do a job together.”
Ihyeon, who had been staring down, lifted his head and looked at Seunghyeok. He couldn’t guess what that meant.
“There’s information I need you to get from someone.”
“…What?”
“I’ve set the stage already, but I don’t have anyone to move.”
He looked up asking for more explanation, but Seunghyeok only gestured toward the agreement with his eyes. It seemed he wouldn’t say more unless it was signed.
Ihyeon bit his lip and lowered his gaze again. He couldn’t nod blindly without knowing from whom or how to obtain the information. What if it’s dangerous. What if it’s illegal.
But Seunghyeok showed no intention of speaking further, and Ihyeon had no other option. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t be asked to do something impossible for him.
After a moment’s thought, Ihyeon stared at the number thirty million won written in the center of the page and spoke.
“…I won’t sell my body.”
A faint scoff answered him.
Ihyeon ran his tongue over his lips and picked up the pen. Borrower: Kwon Ihyeon. His hand showed no hesitation as he wrote.
After checking the agreement, Seunghyeok called somewhere and ordered the money transferred. Meanwhile Ihyeon simply sat on the sofa staring at the paper in front of him.
After some time, his phone vibrated and a notification appeared saying the money had been deposited.
While Ihyeon checked his account, Seunghyeok placed one copy of the agreement into an envelope and handed it over. Ihyeon accepted it without a word.
“I’ll send you a location. Next time, come there.”
“……”
“And pick up when I call.”
Ihyeon licked his lips and nodded. As he stood, his steps felt both heavy and light.
Just as he turned toward the door, leaving Gu Seunghyeok behind, a slightly hushed voice came from his back.
“Oh, and. I’m late saying this.”
Ihyeon stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
“Long time no see. Kwon Ihyeon.”
The low voice sounded just like it had when they were young. He couldn’t see Seunghyeok’s expression behind him, but he could imagine it.
Instead of answering, Ihyeon pressed the handle down. He opened the door and, pausing, slightly turned his head. Cold air slipped through the opening with a click.
A feeling passed through him that this stubborn connection would continue again.
Staring into empty space, Ihyeon spoke calmly.
“I didn’t expect we’d meet again like this.”
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
Gu Seunghyeok.